


The Remedy

by Heading100Ways



Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 06:29:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11754006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heading100Ways/pseuds/Heading100Ways
Summary: A short piece of writing- where Emma consoles Julian about death.(Good for Julian and Emma shippers)





	The Remedy

The knife had cut the pleats of air like stinging sliverfish and plunged itself into its 'target'- Livvy. 

A girl, a child; barely of the age of 15. 

And Julian had held her-no- grasped her as in wishing she would not lose her grip and be claimed by Death.

Emma-- I,was always rather cynical of this moment- it hardended me even more than the first time, made my thumbs stout and lips curl downwards often more than once or more than one should like.

 

And 16 years onwards, i am still the idiot who feels emotion by the desire for violence- i guess thats how us, nephilim, have been trained- to punch, to kill with a blind eye. 

I say 'blind eye' because i no longer hold any obligation towards them- see 15 years ago i gave up my shadowhunter powers and traded them for a ordinary- mundane life.

 

Here, in London, i go by the name of Emma Smith (i had to abandon my Shadowhunter hereditary). According to them i am no longer a Carstairs and may not enter the Shadowhunter world ever again.

But i will always be Carstairs, whether the Clave put it to law or not. I was also sworn Under scared law to stabbed by mortal blade if i ever once revealed any detail, tiny, small detail on my previous life- one little slip, word and i'd be dead or hung then stabbed- but dead is the main idea.

I'm an accountant at this Old Bank which itsn't doing very well for itself at the moment- i'm the Second Best Accountant in all of the UK- they had this small National Competition and i won second place- this Guy called 'Henry **Bane'** won first place but i couldn't tell you why :) 

Apart from work, i have made no friends and i don't wish to- my boss calls me the future Cat Lady (And i said "Do you really want a Seraph blade in your windpipe', in my head of course). 

And every Friday Night after swimming and the Gym i order a Chinese Takeout and Watch 'Harry Potter' repeats or sometimes my Landlady knocks on my door and i have homemade pizza with her instead- so i lied i have one friend, i guess.

 

**But that whole story was the actual lie...**

Because right now i'm with Julian 2 weeks after Livvy's death, sitting on his bed whilst he's crying and i don't know what to do, say nor even where to my hands- on my knees? His shoulder?

London is a safeplace, where these responsibilities don't lie so  firm under the ground and a ordinary life is all one has to live.

The rain is pouring , from the window now, yonder, it drops silently as if in shame- as if nature regretted allowing someone like Annabelle to exist. I accepted its apology and looked hard at Julian.

His fingernails were torn worse than usual, his lip was bleeding- overbitten, the creases and shadows on his face seemed to increase within every second and what I too could feel was his heart as my heart- and our heart pressure was always high and our temperatures flung from hot to cold constantly. 

"Em-m-a", he croaked. 

I smoothed my palm across his back and let it tumble when he abruptly stood up.

I stood up too.

"You know- i don't sleep", he said looking down and clutching the window frame.

I took a step towards him, "Nor i", i repiled.

"No", he turnt sharply and looked at me, "don't feel sorry for me", he said accusingly. 

I frowned- i offered him no sympathy...

He leaned now on the window , "I'm selfish, when i don't sleep it is not because i think Livva- its because- i fear dying- dying in my sleep- i think that if i shorten these hours maybe i can escape death a little longer".

I closed the space between us- it wasn't selfish- death makes us consider our own immortaility- even Half-Angels are mortal beings. 

"That doesn't sound like a great remedy towards death".

He gazed half-dozingly at me, pupils already dilated;:"Then what is?", he asked.

"This", and i kissed him- softly, brushing my lips upon his temple and his cheeks, tasting salt and blood. I tousled his hair, softening it and again i kissed his lips and somehow he found it in him to kiss me back, lazily at first but then as if overcome with desire he embraced me, touching my lips- sadly but nonetheless with that flicker of hope, that flicker of Julian.

Slowly we Drew apart and he asked me, "So what is your famous remedy towards death"?

And i looked  straight in the blueness of him and said **," love".**

 

 

 

 


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